


Rhythm of the Night

by fluffyquill



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9769223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffyquill/pseuds/fluffyquill
Summary: Barry is unaware that he has an audience.





	

**Rhythm of the Night**

**(or, the Red Windmill)**

 

by A Fairly Fluffy Quill

~@~@

 

ColdFlash – established relationship, domestic fluffery

 

~@~@

 

When Len stepped into apartment, his arms laden with groceries, he could hear the shower running and muffled music playing in the background. The clock in the kitchen showed that it was only 5:08, so Len guessed that Barry had finished up early at work and come straight home. They weren’t expecting Mick, Iris and Lisa to arrive until seven, presuming Lisa didn’t spend an extra hour at the store mulling over which wine to purchase, before deciding to buy one of everything.

 

After stowing all the food in their respective places in the fridge and pantry, Len hung his leather jacket up in the entryway closet and headed down the hall to their bedroom. He had just opened the door when he heard the water shut off.

 

Excellent. Now it was his turn to shower. He’d finish up in no less than three minutes and be dressed in three and a half.

 

“The French are glad to dieeeeeee for love,” crooned a woman’s smooth voice from over their bedroom's music speakers.

 

The man froze, his hand on the doorknob. Stepping back into the hallway, he kept the door slightly ajar and peered inside. Barry shuffled in from the bathroom, toweling his hair dry as he sang along to the music. He poked at his smartphone that sat on top of the dresser, dialing up the volume.

 

“They delight in fighting duels…”

 

He wore nothing but a pair of red boxers, his skin fresh and pink from the bath. Small droplets of water still gathered along his toned shoulders and the nape of his neck, and Len consciously started regulating his breathing. Rummaging around in his drawers, Barry pulled out a pair of jeans, shimmying into them with ease.

“But I prefer a man who lives – and gives expensive…”

 

Len swallowed.

 

“…jewels,” Barry breathed, tossing his towel onto the cushioned bench at the foot of their bed.

 

The tempo began to pick up speed, taking on a jazzy swing tune, and Barry started playing air drums as he made his way over to his closet.

 

“A kiss on the hand might be quite continental – but diamonds are a girl’s best friennnd!”

 

He threw open his closet and selected several different shirts, flashing in and out of them as he posed in front of the mirror.

 

“A kiss may be grand, but it won’t pay the rental on your humble flat! Or help you feed your –  _mrowr_  – pussycat!”

 

There were brief flashes of blue plaid, emerald green, bright red, baby blue, and even a S.T.A.R. Labs employee polo, before the man settled on a comfortable white button-up over a white T-shirt.

 

“Men grow cold – “

 

Len had to keep himself from snorting, lest he gave himself away.

 

“ – as girls grow old, and we all lose our charms in the ennnnnnd!”

 

Straightening, the speedster stood closer to the mirror, combing his fingers through his messy locks to try and tame it into something manageable.

 

“But square-cut or pear-shaped, these rocks don’t lose their shape! Diamonds are a girl’s best friennnnnd!”

 

Still unaware that he had an audience, Barry pranced about the room, putting away his discarded pile of clothes – actually  _hanging_  them for a change – and singing along with animated gusto. It was impossible to forget that Barry had a beautiful singing voice; he sang around the apartment so frequently that any lengthy period of silence would set off Len’s internal alarms. However, the man had forgotten just how  _limber_  and coordinated his partner could be, if the somewhat complicated dance moves were any indication.

 

“Cause we are liiiiiiiving in a material world!” Barry sang, tossing a balled-up pair of socks into the drawer and kicking it shut, “And I am a ma-ter-ial girl!”

 

And there was the finger gun pose.

 

“Come and get me, boys!” Barry cooed, sashaying back into the bathroom and out of sight. Len remained absolutely still despite the summons. Had he been discovered? Perhaps not, given that his partner was still strutting about without a care in the world. While he seemed more than comfortable to sing with an audience, Barry was considerably more reserved about performing when others were around, and usually didn’t go beyond rhythmic finger or foot tapping.

 

Faintly, he could hear a distinct buzzing as Barry brushed his teeth, vibrating his hand to electric toothbrush speeds. There was the brief gush of the faucet, followed by clanking bottles and the sound of the cabinets closing before Barry slid out of the bathroom in his socked feet with a theatrical swish.

 

“There may come a time when a lass needs a lawyer, but diamonds are a girl’s best friennnd! There may come a time when a hard-boiled employer thinks you’re awful nice!”

 

Barry whipped around to face the mirror, wagging a finger at his reflection.

 

“But get that ice or else  _no dice_!”

 

Oh, Len was going to  _ice_  him all right. He was going to need a  _cold_ , long – ten minutes and forty-two seconds – shower after this, or both of them were going to inevitably get distracted, and their guests would show up before they had a chance to get ready for dinner.  

 

“Cause that’s when those louses go back to their spouses!” The speedster pulled Joe’s old watch from out of the nightstand and strapped it on.

 

“Diamonnnnnnnds!” Barry belted out, spinning around in a tight circle, “are a giiiiiiiiiirl’s – beeeeeeeest – !!”

 

Len silently stepped into the room, and Barry spun straight into his arms with a startled squawk, his arms windmilling about.

 

“LEN!” he shrieked, his face flushing completely red.

 

The man smirked, watching as Barry’s wide hazel eyes met his, and the jazzy number came to a finish. He could feel the speedster’s heartbeat thundering against his chest, like a summer thunderstorm encased in flesh and blood. The crisp scent of Barry’s cologne filled the air between them, and Len’s mouth watered. He swallowed, and Barry’s eyes flicked down to watch the movement, before the pupils darkened and once again locked with his own steel blue gaze.

  

“I – I – I…” stammered Barry, all his earlier swagger and composure crumbling to dust in the wake of his embarrassment at being caught.

 

“Scarlet,” Len purred with a smile.  He took Barry’s hand in his and rubbed the back of it gently, watching as the speedster's blush spread further down his neck. “If  _diamonds_  are what you really wanted…” Not once breaking their eye contact, he brought the hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the back of the smooth knuckles. “…you needed only ask.”

 

~@

 

FIN

 


End file.
